Corridor

• Eric Lukman, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2022

My feet barely touched the floor as I ran.
She was seemingly always just behind me. But, as I ran more, things felt…weirder.
I felt like I was Alice in my very own wonderland. Jagged windows bursting out of their frames and rolling carpets came into view only a few metres away from my eyes then passed through my vision in a way that made it seem like a mirage. They were moving at intensely quick speeds in this corridor of beige walls and velvet floor, but I was managing to get away from her.
After what seemed like an eternity of running, I saw it. A door, perfectly fitted into the frame that surrounded it, contrasting to everything I previously neglected.
I sprinted to it, resorting to desperation. I was deciding whether to jump through or to just turn back and find another exit, even though I knew I had a slim chance of exiting this horrific world. I had not realised that she was standing centimetres behind me, her breath coldly touching my neck.
I leapt through the door.
It was fake.
The cardboard wall surrounding the painted door collapsed, revealing a cyan room with a dim light and no windows. My vision softened, darkened, then faded to black. Some time later, I regained my vision again. I glanced, sight getting slightly better, and found myself in a rather tangled situation. I was tied down by a rope on a chair, with no chance of escape.
In front of me, clad with a weapon-studded belt, was her. Fear gripped me when I saw my face reflected from the polished blade being drawn from the slightly ripped sheath. She was Hercules and I was just one of the powerless creatures in her untold 13th labour. I winced and closed my eyes as cold steel brushed against my throat.
I opened my eyes, like I was waiting for her to finish me off. But somehow, I was in the corridor again, with the beige walls and velvet floor.
I searched around for anything I’d remember. I was even hoping I’d see just one window with a jagged frame or another door. I looked down to check for a scar, but all I found was a blade in my hand, just drawn out of a slightly ripped sheath, on a weapon-studded belt. I heard quick footsteps in front of me, so I looked up. It was myself, running away from me.